


The Emperor and the Warrior

by KendraPendragon



Series: My tumblr writing [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, fantasy!au, royal!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 17:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: His empire is falling. He has to flee, his brother at his side, both protected by their guardians. Will they make it out alive? Will he see her again?





	The Emperor and the Warrior

The palace was shaking from the violent explosions. Sherlock could hear the marble, stone and wook creak, slowly losing their fight against the fire and the impacts.

He was in his room, neatly packing up his instruments and books. There was no way he was leaving them behind. Not even when a whole army was standing at their walls, bombarding them.

Sherlock stumbled when the next impact made the proud old palace tremble. According to the noises, the impacts came closer.

_They have broken the first wall._

The door to his study room opened and his older brother entered the room.

“Sherlock. We have to go.”

There was just a hint of strain in his voice.

“Mother?” Sherlock asked casually, grabbing another stack of books out of his high shelve and read the titles.

“Guardian Watson is guiding her through the tunnel.”

“Mrs. Hudson?”

“She’s with them.”

Sherlock nodded, his chest feeling tight.

 _No_ , he told himself,  _don’t. They are safe. They will live._

Clicking heels on the marble floor.

“Your Grace!”

Mycroft’s ever loyal guardian burst into the room.

“They broke through the second wall. The palace is lost.”

Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged a look. For one moment, this wasn’t a palace. For one moment, this was only home. The building they have grown up in, which has given them shelter and warmth. Where they had learned and laughed and cried together. Where they once had been a family…before the two Holmes brothers had acceded the throne.

With a blink of an eye, the memories were cast aside. The emperors were men of logic.

“Very well. Get some servants to carry Sherlock’s things and then we will make our way to the tunnel.”

Anthea tipped on her earpiece to activate communication.

“I need four servants for the Young Emperor’s trunks. Get them here immediately. And his guard. We will exit through the second tunnel and take the boat…what do you mean, no communication?! Since when? Damn that disobedient woman!”

Anthea whirled around and ended the call.

“Sorry, Your Grace. As it seems, Moriarty’s elite has entered the palace and the Young Emperor’s guard has chosen to face them on her own.”

Mycroft threw his younger brother a displeased look.

“Once again your guardian disobeys you, Sherlock.”

“Most probably her revenge for me being disobedient to her all the time.”

Mycroft only huffed.

it was silent until the servants hurried into Sherlock’s room, fear on their faces The bombardment had stopped, but there were screams in the distance.

The invasion had started.

They carried the two trunks Sherlock had packed out of their room.

Just as Mycroft nodded to Sherlock to get going, Anthea’s communicator beeped again. She took the call and listened.

Her eyes darted to the brothers, then she turned away from the men.

“Have they reached the checkpoint?”

Sherlock stiffened.

A moment of silence that felt like eternity.

Even though she tried very hard not to show any sign of distress, she should have known she couldn’t hide anything from her emperors.

Her voice sounded a little shaky when she spoke next.

“Your Grace…”

Mycroft looked at her impatiently. He didn’t tolerate his guard being hesitant. It annoyed him. Even now, when is empire was falling.

Anthea took a deep breath.

“The tunnel has caved, Your Grace. Your mother and guardian Watson have reached the checkpoint, but…” she threw a quick glance to Sherlock, “…Mrs. Hudson hasn’t. There is no communication to her guardian.”

 

Sherlock’s heart stopped beating for a second.

 

He blinked and swallowed hard.

Mycroft looked at him for a long moment.

“Now is not the time, Sherlock. We have to go.”

Sherlock stared into the distance and tried to fight down his feelings.

Then he nodded and they left.

 

**~oOo~**

 

They hurried through the corridors, the first sunbeams falling through the big windows. Sherlock glanced through the glass, down to the burning grounds of his home. People were fighting. People were dying. His people.

 

Out of nowhere, shadows.

Swords glistening in the first rays of the new day.

 

Instantly Anthea stepped in front of Mycroft and Sherlock, drawing the slender sword from her back.

Sherlock saw Mycroft ball his hands into fists.

 

They were outnumbered.

 

Anthea wouldn’t survive this. She was one of the best warriors in their empire, but not even she could succeed over this number of opponents, Sherlock realized as well as his brother.

  
And Anthea knew it, too.

  
Yet, she didn’t back down.

She stood strong, facing the enemy, her sword ready to taste blood.

When they dashed, so did she. Like a snake she looped through the river of black clothed enemies pouring down the corridor, her brown long waves billowing as she moved, her sword cutting flesh.

  
Three men fell.

  
When she faced the fifth, a dagger dug into her shoulder.

Mycroft flinched when she hissed.

With a war cry she cut off her opponent’s head.

The next one already lunged at her.

The guardian bent down just in time, ducking under his blow.

Sherlock stiffened.

She didn’t see the shadow facing her back, his sword risen to strike.

He heard his brother inhale a breath.

An arrow whizzed through the air and landed in the attacker’s head.

His swort clattered to the floor as the man fell.

Mycroft exhaled as one by one, the shadows fell to the ground until Anthea was the only one standing.

The clicking of heels echoed through the corridor as a woman stepped out of the shadows.

Anthea glared at her.

“About time you showed up.”

The woman only grinned and shrugged her shoulders, her silver crossbow in her hand.

“I thought you could handle a few of Moriarty’s so called elite. Obviously, I was wrong”, she replied coolly and nodded to Anthea’s shoulder.

Anthea’s heels clicked angrily on the marble floor as she went over to her sister in arms.

“Your emperor is in danger. The empire is falling, in case you haven’t noticed! Damn it, Sally, this is not a joke!”

The woman threw back her wild black curls.

“I have cleared the way ahead. They were about to invade the tunnel.”

“Your place is with your protégé!”

Sally rolled her eyes.

“I am here, Anthea. Get off my back.”

Then her eyes fixated on Sherlock. She went over to him and did a graceful but ironic bow before him.

“Fear not, my Emperor. I am here to save you.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and Sally grinned. For a moment he forgot that the life he had known was over and in a strange way, enjoyed being mocked by his guardian; as he usually was. They always had had a strange relationship, a mixture of respect and annoyance. She was annoyed by his rude behaviour, he was annoyed by her constant telling him what and what not to do.   
  
But they respected each other. She had saved his life four times. He had saved hers twice.

 

Now they were running again, through hidden passages only royalty and their guardians knew about. Deeper and deeper they went into the impressive stronghold.

Sally and Anthea were in the front, their weapons drawn and ready.

It was silent depsite their ragged breaths and the sound of their shoes making contact with the carpeting.

They opened the door to the grand kitchen and had crossed half of it when an explosion threw stones and marble, pots and pans and whatnot in their direction. They were swept off their feet and slammed against the other wall, buried under those heavy projectiles.

Anthea and Sally were on their feet and clashed against the wave of Shadows that wanted to drown them while Sherlock was crawling out of the ruins. He hurried over to his brother to lift the rocks off his body. His hands were shaking until he found him, looking at him with wide eyes before he took his hands to get pulled to his feet.

Just a look would show Mycroft's gratitude.

The men watched their guardians fight.

The Sword and the Crossbow.

There was an endless stream of Moriarty’s men and even though they were only coming from one direction, they were skilled killers and the guardians had to fight with all they had.

That was until two little black balls flew across the room into the mouth of the wall and spilled grey smoke as soon as they hit the floor.

Anthea and Sally instantly jumped back, escaping the folds of heavy smoke.

“Sherlock!”

Sherlock turned his head and reached out his arms as his former nanny and teacher flew into his arms. She hugged him tight, but he pulled her back to check her appearance. She was covered in coaldust, her cheeks and hair pitchblack.

_She hid in the coal storage._

“Quick, this way”, Sally called out and grabbed Sherlock’s upper arm, “Cover your nose.”

The guardians were wearing masks now and Sherlock quickly pulled out a handkerchief to cover Mrs. Hudsons mouth. She took it and nodded, signaling that she was ready. Sally and Anthea meant to guide them through the blinding smoke that had spread out in the entire room.

While Anthea, holding on to Mycrofts elegant black frock, hurried off, Sherlock yanked Sally’s hand off his wrist and made her grab Mrs. Hudson’s hand instead.

His guardian only hesitated a second before she started walking, dragging the old lady in her volumious dress along.

Sherlock put his suit jacket over his mouth and followed the rustling of Mrs. Hudson’s dress for one second before a thought crossed his mind:

_If he could hear it, then…_

A whizz in the air. Sherlock duck just in time to avoid his head being cut off.

He couldn’t see but heard fighting, Sally had obviously come back for him. A low grunt and a thud.

Then a hand wrapped around his and Sherlock’s heart beat faster.

 

Two times.

Only two times had he held this hand.

And yet he would recognize it anywhere.

 

Mrs. Hudson guardian.

 

He was pulled swiftly through the room, making no sound.

Finally, he was pushed into the tunnel and wanted to run after his brother and the others when the hand let go of his.

Sherlock turned around just in time to see Mrs. Hudson’s guardian take off her mask.

Her usual shy smile was replaced with the strong expression of the warrior.

Sherlock hadn’t known how much he had needed to see her until he finally did.

“The door is broken. It won't lock behind you. You have to go. I’ll buy you some time.”

“No.”

Sherlock didn’t know where that had come from. Or why his voice was so shaky. The guardian looked at him, surprise in her big brown eyes.

She hooked her mask into her belt while she spoke.

“They are too many and you won’t reach the second door in time.”

“Yes we will, if we stop wasting time by debating this.”

Now her stern expression faltered.

“Mrs. Hudson has twisted her ankle, Your Grace.”

Sherlock’s breath got caught in his throat.  
  


She was right.  
  


They wouldn’t reach the door if the Shadows weren’t slowed down.

“I’ll fight with you”, he said next, taking a step in her direction.

She laughed at him. Facing death, she dared to laugh at him.

“No, thanks. I don’t want Sally to bite my head off. Now, get going!”

Sherlock gasped when she pressed her hands on his chest and pushed him back.

“I will make the tunnel cave as soon as you shut the second door. I’ll catch up with you at the onshore.”

Fear took a hold on his heart and for a moment.

  
Sherlock slipped up, let it show.

  
Mrs. Hudson’s guardian looked sad for a moment, then she put on a brave smile, her voice soft.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace. They don’t stand a chance. I’ll find another way out. After all, I’m the Trickster.”

She winked at him and motioned him to run, then she turned around and dashed off, pulling two flasks out of the belt around her shoulder.

 

Explosions, cries and clashing of metal.

Sherlock stood frozen.

Everything inside of him screamed that he would never see her again.

“Molly…”

Her name fell from his lips and echoed from the narrow walls. He had never said it before. Only in his mind had he dared to call her this. But there, he had never called her anything else.

 

**~oOo~**

 

The silence at sea felt horribly wrong while they could still see the thick clouds of smoke rising into the blue sky. Anthea and Sally were debating at the other end of the speedboat while the three royals looked at their fading country.

Mrs. Hudson was still crying silently and Sherlock held her close, gently rubbing her arm.

“As soon as we have met up with Mummy and Watson, we have to travel south. The Adlers will hide us until we have gathered our allies", Mycroft stated firmly. 

He said some more, but Sherlock didn’t listen.

He didn’t know how to feel. He felt…empty.

  
He had lost more than his empire today.

 

**~oOo~**

 

 

Late at night, he stood on the balcony of his new room. The Adler estate was nothing but luxurious and this room was even bigger than his old one.   
Nothing of this mattered to him.

He closed his eyes as the wind passed the balcony. The air smelled different here. It felt different.

  
Everything  _was_  different now that he would never see her again.

  
“Maybe it’s for the best”, the voice of his brother echoed through the air.

Sherlock opened his eyes and stared upd at the stars.

“You became too attached. The moment you looked at each other the day you met I knew she could get dangerous.”

Sherlock’s jaw clenched.

“Father wanted her as your guardian. Can you imagine what would have happened if I had let this happen?”

Images of her warm body in his arms flashed before his eyes. Nothing but dreams he had had.

Mycroft looked at his younger brother.

“And yet, I obviously failed. You loved her, nonetheless.”

Sherlock closed his eyes again.

It was silent for a long moment.

“She will be honored for her selfless sacrifice to protect the royal family.”

Sherlock managed a snort.

 

Mycroft left.

It fell silent again.

Then a thud.

Just as Sherlock turned his head, the dead thought guardian elegantly roped down from the roof.

“Nice of the Emperor to give me an award for saving your butts. I just don’t know if I have any space left on my mantlepiece. Oh, wait. I don’t have a mantlepiece anymore.”

She giggled.

Sherlock had thought he would never hear that sweet sound again.

He could only gape at her. Was it really true? How was it possible for her to survive this?

Breathlessly, he voices his questions.  
  


“The Trickster never reveals her secrets, Your Grace.”

She giggled again and a pleasant shiver ran down Sherlock’s spine.

“You know I won’t stop asking until you tell me.”

“Then keep on asking, Your Grace.”

“I will.”

 

They looked at each other for along time. Sherlock rarely blinked, too afraid that she might be gone as soon as he closed his eyes.

With a smile, the warrior finally turned and looked up at the stars. Sherlock did the same.

Now that he felt her standing beside him, the emptiness in his heart was gone.

He could hope again.

One day, he swore to himself, he would get home again and claim what was his.

With his warriors at his side, it would happen.

  
With _her_  at his side, Moriarty would fall.

  
Suddenly, he felt her hand slide into his, not knowing who had reached out to whom.

“I will always protect you with my life, Young Emperor.”

“I know.”

They smiled.

 

“I love you, too, you know”, Molly said after another moment of silent.

“I know.”

Sherlock didn’t look at her when he finally asked the question which had wanted to ask for so bloody long.

 

“Will you stay with me tonight? And every other night from now on?”

 

“If you wish it, Your Grace.”

“Molly”, he said impatiently. He had always distasted it when she called him by his title.

She smiled.

“Sherlock.”

He smiled, too.

  
And then he took her in his arms, not letting go of her once this night.


End file.
